


Come to Blows

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha!Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Atlas CEO Rhys, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Hyperion CEO Jack, M/M, Omega!Rhys, Rival CEOs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 01:59:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12244884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: "Plenty had seen the two of them fight—spitting and scratching and aiming for weak spots familiar as the colors of their eyes and the expressions they constantly divined in order to understand what exactly was stirring up in each other’s brains—but not many had ever seen what happened after."————Rhys and Jack, CEOs of Atlas and Hyperion respectively, clash after a meeting.





	Come to Blows

**Author's Note:**

> Just something small and sexy for a rival CEOs AU. There will probably be another fic in this same series coming up, haha. Enjoy!

To the unaware eye, it might look like the CEOs of Hyperion and Atlas hated one another.

An egotistical alpha and a headstrong omega were hardly a harmonious match, and it showed to anyone who witnessed any meeting between the two of them. At best, the air would be thick with battling hormones, tense smiles on occasionally breaking the flat expressions of disdain and disregard they held their faces in.

At worse, they might come to blows.

Jack went for the neck, as was his trademark, singleminded instinct driving him to either snap the neck of his prey or scruff an unruly mate in submission. Often, once Jack got his hands around the neck of whatever was pissing him off, people would flee the scene, lest the sound of sinking, watery gasps follow them into their nightmares.

Rhys, on the other hand, kept his nails cleaned and clipped, fingers too small to throttle the life from someone yet perfect when it came for digging at the eyes, nose, mouth, or balls of his opponent. The sheer mechanical force behind his cybernetic arm also couldn’t be ignored—though its use was sparing, reserved for when he’d decisively cowed his attacker, as a show of elegantly engineered power.

Plenty had seen the two of them fight—spitting and scratching and aiming for weak spots familiar as the colors of their eyes and the expressions they constantly divined in order to understand what exactly was stirring up in each other’s brains—but not many had ever seen what happened  _after_.

* * *

“You’re going to pay for this,” Rhys says, almost bored, as he glances about the ruins of the conference room.

It wasn’t exactly one of the newer, nicer ones—in fact, Rhys had considered remodeling it recently, it still bore too much of the stain of the old Atlas empire—but Jack didn’t have to do that. If the young CEO played his cards properly, he could probably goad Jack into paying for a cosmetic update on top of the repairs. He  _had_  managed to coax the alpha into a rather obliging position, after all.

His fingers dig harder into Jack’s hair, smirking as he pulls the alpha harder against his cock, forcing the head against the back of his throat. He watches Jack’s brows furrow in anger, all that the alpha can really do considering how thoroughly Rhys had thrashed him during their fight.

It had been a close one—after Jack had thrown him back against the softly glowing aquarium, Rhys had had a moment of terror, thinking himself a goner as he’d gasped for breath knocked from him by the impact only for the alpha to get his hands around his throat. Rhys had felt burning in his windpipe only moments before he’d managed to plant a firm knee into Jack’s balls, allowing him a moment to dodge Jack’s followup punch, which had smashed right through the wall of the tank and sent a torrent of reddened water and a couple of poor exotic fish all over the dark grey carpet.

Jack had screeched bloody murder at the jagged bits of glass cutting through his forearm for only a moment, before Rhys had delivered a punch right to the mouth that had knocked the alpha to his knees—where he had stayed.

A trail of blood now winds from the tank to the chair where Rhys had dragged Jack and forced his mouth on his cock. Boundless adrenaline is running through Rhys’ body, making his muscles tremble like wire-wound harp strings as he pulls Jack closer until he can feel the alpha choke.

“You’re going to buy me new fish, too. Do you know how rare those are? They were imported all the way from Aquator,” Rhys growls, one leg lifting, his calf curling around the back of Jack’s neck, forcing it into an uncomfortable position. Jack’s eyes gleamed with anger as his bloodied lips dragged against Rhys’ cock, leaving messy, wet trails of red in their wake.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Jackie, you can’t win  _all_  the time, hm?” Rhys gives a strained chuckle, his belly churning pleasantly, the crotch of his undone pants damp with slick. Rhys shudders, feeling Jack’s pointed front teeth press ever so slightly against the skin of his cock. His fingers tug at the man’s hair in warning, earning him a pained wheeze.

“Y-You bite me, and I’m using my  _other_  hand to knock your teeth out,” Rhys hisses, his other hand releasing the arm of his chair and reaching down to grab a hand full of Jack’s bulging cheek, firmly grasping his head as he uses the alpha’s mouth like a fucktoy, pushing as far as his omega cock can reach down Jack’s throat until his velvety balls tense, sending cum splashing against the alpha’s flattened tongue. Rhys cries out, his head falling back against the leather back of his chair, satisfied groan echoing throughout the dead conference room.

After a moment, he shoves Jack off his cock with a wet, messy pop. Jack gasps—blood, cum, and saliva trailing down his chin as he wheezes for breath, flecks of red and white fluttering down his shirt with each exhale.

Rhys lolls his head about, starting to purr as he tilts his chin down to look at Jack. He pats his knee, and though Jack glares at him he leans in and rests his cheek against Rhys’ leg with a soft chuff.

“Good boy,” Rhys smiles as he runs his fingers through Jack’s hair, soothing where he had been rough and scraping only a few moments before.

After a couple seconds of silence, peppered only with the sounds of the two men breathing, Rhys’ hand slips underneath Jack’s jaw, lifting his head up slightly.

“You know what I want you to do now?” A small smile perks at Rhys’ lips, and he can see the flashes of annoyance and fear, twisted together, that brightens in Jack’s eyes. He licks the blood and cum from his lips reflexively.

“I…” his voice is hoarse, both from the fight and disuse, “what is it?”

“Help me save my fish.”

Jack blinks, his eyebrows creasing together.

“I….what? You must’ve….knocked something lose here, kitten, ‘cause I thought you…said…”

“Some of them might still be alive, Jackie, if we get them into water quickly,” that authoritative tone reenters Rhys’ voice as he shoos Jack away from his lap, quickly rising to his feet and tucking his cock back into his pants. The alpha looks up at him, dumbfounded, until Rhys grabs him by the locks and forces him to stand.

“We can put them in cups from the water cooler for now until I can get the tank replaced and—don’t give me that  _look_ , Jack, I’m already going to make you pay for all this so I’m trying to save you a couple thousand dollars,” Rhys snaps back at the look on Jack’s face, before moving to where some of the brightly colored fish are still flopping and twitching on the carpet.

“W-Wait, Rhys, hold on a second—“ The omega turns to glare over his shoulder only to see Jack fixing him with a confused frown and a plaintive gesture towards the tented bulge in his pants.

Rhys rolls his eyes.

“ _After_  we save the fish, Jackie.”


End file.
